Twenty-One
Grace had grass in her hair and dirt on her knees when they snuck into the main house hours later. Heron, smiling, pulled her toward the staircase, his fingers twined with hers. She could smell him all over her and she loved it.
“Still plenty of time to shower before dinner,” he said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand.
Somewhere a glass shattered, and Heron’s lips hovered above her skin.
“What was that?” she asked, her hand on the bannister.
“I think—” he began. Another glass broke. His shoulders slumped. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go ahead and shower?”
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’ll be up in a minute.” He forced a smile for her benefit, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Although she wasn’t fooled, Grace did as she was asked.
She replayed the afternoon, t
